Home Sweet Home
by serpentqueen13
Summary: A glimpse into the sweet and twisted home life of the young again Dark Lord and his family. Cutesy and evil at the same time, a plot bunny that wouldn't die. TRGW
1. Bad Day?

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling; I just like to play with them.

Author's Note: This is HBP compatible, since there's no details. It was an evil plot bunny--an especially odd one considering I usually write D/G fics, but I think it turned out well. It may or may not be a one shot depending on ideas and reviews. Reviews would be nice, by the way.

_Bang_!

Tom Riddle entered the large manor house with a scowl and a slamming of the door. He had had a rough day. Damn those good guys and their ability to get away with only a scratch or two. He was in a bad mood, but it was nothing a nice Death Eater meeting couldn't cure, especially with a few rounds of 'Torture the Rat.' He walked into the family parlour with a scowl on his face.

"Daddy!" He looked down, a grim smile on his face as his young daughter looked up at him. "You're home! You're home!"

"Hard day, dear?" Ginevra Riddle asked from where she was seated by the eerie green fire, knitting. "Alcyone, give your father room to breathe, sweetheart."

"Abysmal, Bellatrix is becoming more and more unmanageable the madder she gets, and its' getting to the point where she may well be subverting our aims." Tom said, swinging his daughter up on his hip and sitting down on a black velvet recliner.

"I don't like that woman, Tom. Azkaban has made her unpredictable and dangerous. Besides, she's obsessed with you and scornful to me and our children. I am the Dark Lady and I do not tolerate insubordinate Death Eaters!" Ginevra said, viciously cutting her yarn as if severing the Death Eater's throat.

Tom chuckled, "I daresay they remember that from the example you made of Lucius Malfoy, but if it will please you, feel free to abuse her how you see fit at tonight's meeting." This statement caused the redheaded girl on his lap to jump up and down excitedly on his lap. "If you can't keep still, Alcyone, I'll be forced to put a Body-Bind on you!" The little girl stopped squirming.

"Daddy, you said I could go to the next meeting! You promised! I want to go, I've been practicing my curses and Mummy says I've almost got my Imperius down!"

"I don't know…" Tom said, looking stern. "You're still so young—" He stopped and wavered as the little redhead looked up at him with those ice blue eyes and a trembling lip, as if her heart would break if she didn't get to go with her parents to the upcoming Death Eater meeting. "Fine, go get into your best robes and tell your brother to get ready as well."

"Oh, thank you, Daddy! You're the bestest Daddy in the whole world!" Alcyone jumped off her father's lap and rushed to the nursery to get dressed in her prettiest black robes. When she arrived, flushed and panting slightly from running, her brother looked up at her.

"Well?" Salazar Riddle asked impatiently. He was the spitting image of his father at that age, where Alcyone looked like their mother in everything but the eyes.

Alcyone smirked, grinning. "I get to go tonight _and_ I get to wear my best robes!"

"That's not fair I had to be eight to go and you're only seven!" Salazar groused. "I don't see how you manage to get everything you want out of Dad!"

"I'm just better than you." Alcyone said, smiling like a Cheshire cat. "Daddy's easy to manipulate, you just have to know how to do it."

Had Ginevra heard her daughter she would have agreed as she lead her husband off to the dungeons for a quick game of whips and chains before dinner—after all, no one wants a cranky Dark Lord.

End.


	2. How Salazar Got His Name

Disclaimer: Not mine! Why are you looking at me like that? I'm telling you it's not mine!

Note: This story is not linear and as such this occurs before 'Bad Day?' That said, continue on—and please review at the end! All opinions are welcome. There's also a slight reference to D/G and the scariest thing in the Muggle world.

**How Salazar Got His Name**

Ginevra Riddle sat at the table surrounded by dozens of books and a few pieces of parchment, absentmindedly running her quill across her chin as she thought. She didn't even look up as her husband entered the room. Tom's brow puckered in surprise, usually if anyone but him entered the room Ginevra's head popped up and a curse was on her lips, while he entered she always looked up, or if she didn't, she at least _said_ something.

"What are you doing, my Dark Lady?" Tom asked curiously, coming up behind her and putting an arm around her shoulders.

"Trying to come up with an appropriate name for our baby, Tom." Ginevra said, looking up at him with a slight frown of annoyance on her face. Tom had been less than thrilled about her pregnancy and had gotten childish enough to try and ignore it completely, or at least, refused to talk about it.

"That again?" Tom asked angrily as he sat across from her at the crowded table, picking up a piece of much-scribbled on parchment. "I don't see why you insist on…_Harry_? You actually thought about naming _our son_ after that…that…_do-gooder?_"

"Oh, _'our son'_ is it now?" Ginevra asked sharply. "After _five months_ of 'it' and 'your condition' now suddenly you're claiming him as your son?" She very nearly snapped her quill as her frustration poured out. "Well, _darling_, you haven't wanted to have anything to do with _your son_, and so I've been trying to come up with a name on my own, since you've wanted no say in anything else."

"But…but… Harry-bleeding-Potter? Naming _my son_ after that…that…_bastion of goodness and light_?" Tom said, torn between being frustrated over her pregnancy and the idea of his offspring, however unhappy he was about _having_ offspring, being named after his archenemy. "I don't see why you insist on having children, how do you know he's not a potential usurper to the throne?"

"You're not going to live forever, Tom." She said, raising an eyebrow, "protest all you want, honey, but this is reality and you're no longer immortal. You're always wondering about the faithfulness of your inner circle—this way you have an heir, someone you can train up, besides, don't you want to see what lour love has made, my dashing Dark Lord?"

Tom grunted in response. "I suppose it couldn't hurt." He ground out, biting down on his pride. He thought about it a moment. "A Dark Prince," he said, testing out the idea out, not admitting to his wife he was starting to grow on him. "But what in the underworld possessed you to think about naming him 'Harry?'"

Ginevra put her face into one of the books, hiding her grin. It had worked. Tom's need for knowing everything going on in his house led to his acceptance of their son. However, she had to answer his question. "He _did_ save my life, you know."

Tom shifted in his seat slightly. "Wouldn't have killed you." He said sullenly.

"Don't fool yourself, darling, yes you would've, but that's all right, I love you anyway, I did marry you, after all." Ginevra said, patting his head. It was humorous to see how much like a little boy the oft-terrifying and much-feared Dark Lord looked like right now.

"True." Tom said, looking up. "You know, that's a bit odd, when someone tries to kill you its not exactly traditional to marry them six years later."

"No one ever accused me of being normal." Ginevra said, shaking her head. "No on Harry then?" She asked with a wicked grin.

"Damn right." Tom groused, "I can't believe you even thought about that!" He tapped his chin, "why not name him Tom?"

"Too confusing." Ginevra replied, shaking her head. "I'm not having two Tom's in the house. A constellation, perhaps?"

"Orion?" Tom suggested.

"That's the name of Draco's eldest, so no." Ginevra said, tapping her quill on her chin. "Hmm…Draco…d'you think…?"

"Absolutely not!" Tom said vehemently. "You were too close to him." He thought a moment, "Erasmus?"

"Blaise's newborn." Ginevra said shaking her head and then sighing, frustrated. "Barnabas?"

"No, I don't like it." Tom said, shaking his head. "The kids will call him Barney, or some other horrendous nickname. I will have no purple dinosaurs in this family!"

Ginevra gave him an odd look—shook her head and continued on with her list of possible names. She decided she didn't want to know about purple dinosaurs. Had Tom been experimenting with new potions again? "Ares?"

"I like it," Tom said contemplatively. "But Ares Riddle doesn't flow nicely. The rhythms are too choppy."

Ginevra stifled a snort. _Rhythms? Flow?_ The Dark Lord who could throw six _Avada Kedavras_ in one breath was talking about rhythms and flow? Oh, what the Death Eaters would say if they knew. Well, maybe Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't see anything odd about it, but everyone knew they were poofs so that didn't count, besides, she had always thought they were more than a little damaged. She thought back to her experience in the Chamber, the first time she had ever seen her husband and was struck with a fit of genius.

Labour hadn't been that bad—Ginevra had amazed the muggle midwife by barely vocalizing her pain. Ginevra had endured many things much worse. The Cruciatus Curse came to mind, as did her wedding, with the blood bonding that had occurred between her and Tom. This was painful, but in an almost transcendental way. The midwife had warned her against horrible pain, but it had been almost like a release.

"Well, I've never, in all my days as a midwife seen something like this!" The well-bred, salt-and-pepper-haired English woman said, feeling that in her thirty years as a midwife for some of the most influential couples in England she had never seen a woman deal with labour with such stoicism and she was sorely tempted to say grace. After hours of childbirth she left the room and smiled at the dark-haired man. "You have a son. You can go in and see them, if you wish. I'll just be on my way."

The man walked in and as she left the palatial home she could have almost sworn she heard the young woman say, "Leave her, Tom. Let her be." She shook her head, the poor woman must have wanted a daughter so badly that she was treating the boy as a girl; either that or she was so tired she hadn't noticed the baby's gender. The muggle midwife would never know that had it not been for Ginevra's exhaustion, happiness, and budding maternal instincts she would have died on that night; the last thing she saw a flash of green light and the last thing she heard a clipped, refined voice enunciating the most-feared Curse in the Wizarding world.

At that moment Professor McGonagall happened to be watching the quill and parchment that wrote down the name of every magical child in Britain at the moment they were born and was shocked to see it read: _Riddle, Salazar Ares_. She stared at the name and shuddered, knowing that she had to report to Dumbledore. How could something like this be possible?

The mystery led the Order in quite a tizzy—they knew Voldemort to be dead, but then how could there be another Riddle born? The final (and uneasy) consensus was that it was a Muggleborn descendant of Voldemort's father. No one really believed this, but none dreamed that tucked away in a large home was an incarnation of Tom Riddle, holding (because Dark Lords _never cuddle) _his newborn son, while sitting on the bed of his wife, (the long-missing, presumed dead) Ginevra Weasley, who was delighted that said Dark Lord's dormant paternal instincts had awoken the minute he saw the dark-haired, blue-eyed child.

End.


	3. The Riddle Children Visit Diagon Alley

Disclaimer: I am not JKR I do not own any of her characters. If I had, things would've been very different.

Author's note: This story is not in a linear fashion. It is told through a series of interlocking one-shots that do not necessarily go in order. This particular snippet occurs after both previous ones. Salazar is 10 years old, almost 11 in this story, and his little sister Alcyone is almost 8. I was planning on having a holiday cookie for you all, but, unfortunately the plot bunnies did not agree. Please review! All opinions are welcome, as always! Anyway, on with:

**The Riddle Children Visit Diagon Alley**

"But Mum, I don't want to wear any poxy uniforms." Salazar Riddle complained, verging on whinging as he stood with his mother and sister inside Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, staring at the Hogwarts robe displays. "They look ugly! Why can't I go to Durmstrang with Alexei?" His friend Alexei Dolohov had wicked uniforms, unlike these things.

"You are going to Hogwarts, Salazar, and you will wear the uniforms. I don't care what you think of them. I've worn them, your father's worn them and you _will_ wear them." Ginevra scolded, putting a hand to her temple. "If you don't behave we won't go to Knockturn Alley after we get your school supplies." Ginevra threatened. She had learned some things about her children in the past eleven years. Try threats, if threats didn't work, bribery, and if that failed, flattery usually had them in the palm of her hand.

"Mummy, I want to go to Hogwarts!" Alcyone said, pulling on her long red braid. "Can I go? _Please…?_"

Sometimes Alcyone reminded Ginevra so much of herself at that age. "Of course you can go, Alcyone." She said, in a gentle voice, and just as the girl looked ready to strip the nearest mannequin of the Hogwarts uniform it was modelling she added. "In two years, when you're nearly eleven." The little girl looked at her mother, fell silent and stared jealously at her brother as he was measured and got his robes. Ginevra reminded herself to change the wards to Alcyone's rooms the night before Salazar left. Alcyone was a daddy's girl, and as much as she was like Ginevra, she definitely had Tom's cunning streak. She would not be surprised if the little girl tried to sneak into her brother's trunk, or at the very least, hex some of his belongings for being able to do something she wasn't. There was no doubt that both of her children were intensely spiteful, though Alcyone was much easier to provoke.

The next stop was the Apothecary, and for once, Alcyone had the upper hand on her brother. As he swept over to the more common ingredients bins, Alcyone walked up to the counter, that she was still to small to see over properly, and, as if she had been doing this her entire life, and was twice her age she reached into her pretty lavender robes and pulled out two pieces of parchment. After inspecting them, she put the one back and got on her toes, pushing the parchment onto the counter to the amused apothecary. "I would like these ingredients, please." She said in a firm tone, imitating her mother.

The apothecary laughed and conjured a stool for his small customer. "You're a bit younger than my usual patrons," he chuckled, but he did as she asked and measured out her ingredients into tightly wrapped paper parcels, phials, and an amber-coloured jar. "And how will you be paying for this, little miss?" He asked politely, still finding this in a way, absurd.

"Charge it to my Gringott's account, please." Alcyone said calmly, handing him the smooth round stone that was used for credit and debit transactions. She didn't miss how the man balked slightly, but did as she asked. After all, a paying customer was a paying customer no matter what their age. Once Alcyone had gotten her things her brother went up to the counter with only the things he needed for his first year. Unlike his sister, he had no interest in Potions. They bored him and he didn't see much point, he had a much greater success rate and proclivity toward Charms.

Once they had gotten that done, it was on to the scrivener's shop for many rolls of parchment, bottles of ink, and expensive quills. Alcyone and Salazar squabbled over the last bottle of emerald green ink, causing their mother to snap it up for their father. They could be very ridiculous sometimes and this was giving her a headache. Once they had gotten everything they had needed, they wandered around the more entertaining shops, Eeyops Owl Emporium, Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Magical Musical Instruments. It was after the trip to this last location that they happened to run into Draco Malfoy and his two sons, Orion and Corvus, just outside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"Corvus!" Alcyone called excitedly, rushing over to her friend. "I missed you, why weren't with Orion and your father last month?"

"I caught dragon pox, but I'm fine now." Corvus said, grinning. "Is it true that you really hexed Alexei at the meeting?"

"Just a little one, really." Alcyone said humbly. "He interrupted me and Daddy said I could. What are you doing here?"

"We're shopping for Orion's Hogwarts stuff. What about you?" Corvus said, "But we finished, so now we're just shopping and trying to convince Dad to take us for ice cream."

"Ice cream sounds great!" Salazar said, hearing the words mentioned from where he was discussing Hogwarts with his best friend Orion. "Mum, can we get ice creams, please?"

Ginevra sighed, and turned from her conversation with Draco. "I don't see why not, Salazar. What do you think, Draco? It _was_ Corvus's idea. It wouldn't be fair if we stole their idea."

Draco shrugged, "Why not? After all, we are in Diagon Alley and old man Fortescue has the best ice cream around, Ginevra." He was immensely cautious with how he addressed Ginevra Riddle. Like any faithful Death Eater he had been on the business end of Voldemort's wand more than once, but unlike most he had been punished more than once for slipping up and improperly addressing the Dark Lady.

The quartet of children, plus the two parents were soon sitting at a large table at the ice cream parlour. Again, making sure that he was practicing subservience properly he made sure that Ginevra was sitting at the head of the table and he was stuck between his two sons.

"So, Slytherin is going to have quite a large new class, isn't it, Draco?" Ginevra commented, taking a bite of her English toffee ice cream.

"It certainly looks that way. Your Salazar will definitely be in his namesake's House, my Orion, probably Erasmus Zabini, I hear Millicent Bulstrode's daughter is a shoo-in, and that's only what I know for sure. I wouldn't be surprised if we pull in Lovegood's daughter, and a few other Ravenclaw alumni's children as well."

"It'll be interesting to see the reactions, especially with both Hermione and Harry teaching." Ginevra said, grinning. "Can you just imagine Harry's face when he sees my Salazar? I'm half-expecting him to have a heart attack"

Salazar looked up from his gummy-slug covered ice cream. "Why is someone going to have a heart attack when he sees me, Mum?"

"Because, darling, you're the spitting image of your father." Ginevra answered, ruffling his hair.

Alcyone's attention was caught—her brother was getting attention and she wasn't. This was a travesty that had to be rectified. "Who do I look like, Mummy? Do I look like Daddy?" She of course, already knew the answer, having been told by adults many times before, but that wasn't the point. The point was giving her equal attention to that her brother was getting.

"You have your father's eyes, baby, but you take your colouring from me." Ginevra said, touching her own copper locks nostalgically. She shook her head and looked at the clock, surprised. "Oh my, we'd best be getting home before your father gets worried and sends Vince and Greg to find us. Say goodbye to Corvus and Orion and let's get going." She stood quickly, passing out napkins to the messy children, and commenting on the slight stain on Alcyone's robes, even though it could be (and was) cleaned very easily with a simple charm.

"Bye Corvus! Bye Rion!" Alcyone said, waving to the boys.

"Bye guys! See you soon, Orion!" Salazar said, grinning.

As the Riddles left, Draco shook his head. "Between you and Salazar, my son, Hogwarts won't know what hit it. Salazar may look like his father, but he takes after his mother in temperament. It'll be a very interesting few years. Almost makes me wish I was going back." He caught the look on his son's face and frowned. "Almost."


End file.
